Membrane city

19 May

I missed my time at the plot on Friday even though I knew it would have been yet another tedious slow session of pulling up weeds. The kids had succumbed to a sickness bug and we were all rather stir crazy by the end of the day. So on Saturday I was raring to get back to the plot and escape the house. I went twice yesterday, coming back for lunch cooked by the hubby and setting off in earnest in the afternoon. My philosophy at the moment is if you can go then go because so often something gets in the way. Like today when I realised I could not clean the bathroom, cook a roast, do some bits for work and look after the kids while the hubby mows the lawn and also cram in a trip to the plot. Every now and then it dawns on me that we have a regular garden to tend and a drippy cistern and various other bits of DIY that still need doing and then I remember why the plot lay dormant all of last year – there just wasn’t the time.

It felt like my time had been well spent in my double visit yesterday but when I looked at the photos it looks like all I ever do is just cover more bits of the plot in membrane.

Being dyslexic doesn’t help when I am trying to describe what I am doing on the plot. Invariably I will call the membrane tarpaulin and then tarpaulin morphs into tarmac. As most dyslexics can testify, being dyslexic often involves other people rolling their eyes when you mispronounce a word or use the wrong word in a well known phrase. They think it means you are thick or ill educated. I have had this my whole life so when I finally had confirmation in black and white that I am dyslexic five years ago (they didn’t really test for such things in 1980s comprehensives in Essex) it felt more a relief than a shock.

It’s all to do with the way brain processes and recalls information. Membrane becomes tarpaulin because the actual product looks fairly similar and membrane is not a word my brain often uses and from there it is an easy leap to tarmac which sounds similar. I now understand why my brain makes these slips but that doesn’t make it any easier for the listener, who might now be shocked or confused to hear I am planning on tarmacking  a big wodge of my plot.

To clarify then I now have an almost finished path with membrane – not tarmac – and a flower border.

pathway nearly complete

More membrane!

My youngest has the beginnings of his plot – a rather wonky affair that almost forced Ken to dust off his spirit level when he saw it and redo my efforts. I don’t get gardeners and this straight line malarkey, what’s wrong with the ramshackle rickety look?

start of dyalns plot

A wonky future vegetable patch!

Oh and while digging this new little bed I found the mother of all weed roots. It probably literally is the mother of all the thistles on our plot. It was a huge woody thing that looked like it was part of a tree trunk and had off shoots going hither and thither, one measured about five foot long which I chased underground to find this woody mother ship. No idea how to remove it I sprayed it with weed killer and hoped for the best.

massive thistle root

An unmovable thistle root.

On an exciting note (there needs to be one really) as I sat contemplating how best to deal with this huge root I smelt smoke and looked up and realised the plot over the path that has lain empty for over a year has finally got it’s beehive as promised by all the surrounding plot keepers. The bee man had come to smoke out some honey. I can’t wait to see if he sells some jars!

bee keeper

Bee keeping !

So really it was five hours well spent. Fruit corner has clearly not been weeded for years and even though my little effort was a mere drop in the ocean it was a start. Oh and I left with more membrane covering the plot than ever before.

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One Response to “Membrane city”

  1. Gill Ridgewell May 20, 2013 at 1:26 pm #

    Membrane is definitely today’s word! I know I always say that I know a lot ABOUT gardening from my childhood even though I don’t garden but I never knew membrane was a garden related word until now. I just thought of it as a biological term especially the membrane covering the soft spot in a new born baby’s head – which I always found rather scary! XX

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